Boruto Cries

Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion. However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her. He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave. My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides. ___________________________ “Yes please.” She begs. “Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy. It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric. But I never claimed to be saint. “Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.” “Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.” I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.” Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks. “Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.” “Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads. “Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.” I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

I am Ayna Radolf, the only White Wolf in Moonshadow Pack. Everyone says I grew up cherished by Carlson Moonclaw, the Alpha. When I was three, my father died in battle. Carlson held me in a pool of blood and swore to protect me for life. When I was five, I was bullied in the pack because of my unusual fur color. He announced to the entire pack that anyone who touched me was his enemy. For 15 years, I have lived under his protection, offering him my heart and my life without reservation. At 18, Carlson falls under the vampires' death curse. I willingly sacrifice half of my lifespan and beg a witch to use a forbidden spell to transfer the curse onto me. With that, I take on his certain death. On that same day, as I watch his unconscious form and tightly furrowed brows, I cannot help but kiss the corner of his lips. He wakes up. Unexpectedly, there isn't any tenderness or any trace of emotion—only overwhelming rage and disgust. He grips my chin with horror in his eyes, as if he is looking at a filthy maggot. "Ayna, I am your brother! How dare you have such disgusting thoughts?" From that day on, Carlson has avoided me like the plague. This goes on until Selena Fang, his so-called fated mate, returns. She cries and tells him that she is abused and abandoned by her former mate. Now, she is blind and covered in injuries. The healer declares that only my White Wolf's eyes are a perfect match for her. So my Alpha, the brother I loved for 15 years, comes to me. Carlson stands in front of me and says solemnly, "Ayna, I know this is unfair to you. But if Selena doesn't have eyes, she will live in darkness for the rest of her life. As long as you give her your eyes, I will do anything you ask—except give you my love." I snap back to reality and dig my fingers hard into my palm. The sharp pain clears my mind instantly. I am not dreaming. I am reborn and back to the day Carlson forces me to give up my eyes. In my previous life, I refused to the end. During the struggle, Serena "accidentally" fell off a cliff, and her body was never found. Carlson blamed me for everything. On my birthday, he gouged out my eyes and threw me into the dungeon where rogue wolves were imprisoned. There, I was assaulted endlessly. In the end, I died in the cold, damp darkness like a piece of discarded trash. The despair and pain from before my death still linger in my bones. I look at the man in front of me. The love that once filled my chest completely fizzles out into nothingness. I will give him these eyes as repayment for the 15 years he has protected and raised me. From now on, we will go our own ways, and we owe each other nothing.

At the banquet hall, I refuse to let my adopted twin pups eat the walnut cake. Ivana Lamont—the childhood sweetheart of my mate, Luther Hardwick—chokes up dramatically. She cries accusingly, "Yara, they may not be yours biologically, but you can't abuse them! Why won't you even let them have a slice of cake?" I'm just about to explain that the twins are allergic to nuts, but they point at me and complain in aggrieved voices. "Mommy often doesn't give us food. We never have enough to eat!" With that, I'm unceremoniously driven out of the banquet hall by the host. When I go to look for my mate to talk about it, I accidentally overhear his conversation with a friend. "Alpha Luther, it's been eight years. Are you still not going to mark Yara?" "There's no rush. I'll wait until the kids are a little older. We love each other very much, so it's fine even if I don't mark her." His friend responds disapprovingly, "You've been hiding from her that the twins are actually your and Ivana's pups. Aren't you afraid she may leave in anger if she finds out?" Luther shakes his head and replies with certainty, "She won't. Yara is an orphan, so she has no family. If she leaves me, where else can she go?" The ugly truth causes me to freeze on the spot. It turns out the pups I've loved for eight years were born to my mate and another she-wolf. What I thought was a happy life is nothing but a cold, heartless deception! I touch my belly, thinking of the pup I just conceived. My tears fall like a relentless downpour. In the shadows, I say inaudibly, "You're wrong, Luther. In fact, I found my birth parents three days ago. I just haven't had the chance to tell you. But it doesn't matter now because you don't need to know about that anymore." I have Luther sign the mate bond dissolution agreement before finalizing my withdrawal from the Sharp Teeth pack. Two days later, I give both my mate and the pups to Ivana. With the pup that Luther has never known or laid his eyes on, I disappear from his world forever.

My name is Daniella Limebear. In my past life, my long-lost younger sister, Heidi Limebear, returns home. On her very first day back, I hear the faint whispers of her heart: "At the riverside, I saw the other kids learning to swim with their dads… I wish I could join them." The next day, I drive Heidi to the clearest stretch of river in the countryside. I teach her to float and paddle, guiding her hands with mine. Without warning, she lets out a scream and disappears beneath the water. I plunge into the river, fighting against the current to reach her. Suddenly, she clutches my arm and pulls me under. With the last of my strength, I push her toward the shore. Water fills my lungs, and darkness swallows me. Amid the piercing wail of the ambulance siren, Heidi curls into our mother's arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Mom slaps me across the face. In Dad's eyes, there is only utter disappointment. "Heidi has already endured so much while she was gone for ten years! I can't believe you would try to drown her the moment she comes home!" he snaps. I stand frozen, unable to defend myself. Shortly after the incident, a group of troublemakers just outside the school gates corners Heidi. Once again, I "hear" her cries of despair echoing in my mind: "He said if I don't meet him tonight, he'll set our home on fire! Daniella, please save me! You're the only one who can." The moment I arrive at the scene, I'm immediately surrounded by a group of thugs. With cruel, mocking smiles, they close in from all sides. "Don't blame us. Your precious younger sister paid us five thousand dollars to kill you." "She claimed that once you're out of the picture, the billion‑dollar inheritance goes straight to her." Just as I begin to suffocate, I notice Heidi standing not far away. Her face remains perfectly calm and composed. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day she was found and brought home. Once more, her inner voice echoes in my ears: "I really want to swim… I wish Daniella would take me."

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.